The sound of sitting in the cold,
Arms locked tight together,
Nor lies or truths are told,
In the silence of tonight

The comfort of hip to hip bindings,
Of breathes tangled together as one,
Of reluctant tears streaming down battered cheeks,
Of smiles about to come

The quiet warmth of a hug,
So fitting to this loud moment,
And the clasp of a hand tugging,
On old, colour faded, hoodie strings

The glowing of the street lamps,
Lighting up our once grey faces,
Showing it's stamp in silence,
Love need not have a voice